Birds are a sign of evil, at least that's what my wacky grandmother taught me. Then, she ended up owning a pet bird later in life. She would let Petie fly around her apartment and land on her head or arm. Go figure.
We have a tree in our back yard that produces some sort of wild berry. This is time of year when the berries ferment and fall. The birds go crazy eating them and then they get confused (or drunk) and fly repeatedly into windows. Bang! Sometimes they can shake it off and fly away. Other times, they bash their little heads and they die in my yard. Gabby thinks this is great fun so I must deal with their corpses. This causes me to squeal. I'm always hopeful houseboy is here or my dad will show up when I'm faced with this situation. Yes, I am a wimp.
But, when I have to do it, I can.
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1 comment:
I think you need a bird feeder in that tree.
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